


'Tis but a Cut

by thetrueenemyofhumanity



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Mentions of Violence, all i can think of is the black knight from monty python
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 20:18:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19216786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thetrueenemyofhumanity/pseuds/thetrueenemyofhumanity
Summary: Prompt: "It's just a cut" for Reaper.





	'Tis but a Cut

Short breaths pulled in by a tight chest each more painful than the last. Every part of Gabriel felt weak and weary, failing and ready to give way. Parts of him already were. Crumbling to dust and billowing away. But still he kept going. Footstep after aching footstep, he dragged himself along to finally stumble in the door. Only the thoughts of you keeping him moving. Keeping him alive.

He still wasn’t sure what O’ Deorain did to him. Hell, he has a strong suspicion that she wasn’t sure either. She had promised him the cure to every ailment and injury- to death itself. Instead that is what he became: death. A walking corpse floating between the living and the dead. Cells decaying and cells healing. As if his life were on scales which were forever fluctuating.

Some days were better than others. He could take the bullets of an entire army and come out on top. But today was a bad day. One stupid move lead to a knife under his fifth rib and from there events spiralled to cost him the mission. And almost his life. But he wasn’t about to stay and let that mad scientist tend to his wound and pump God knows what else into his system. No; he would heal. The only medicine he needed was you.

As soon as he crossed the threshold his legs had had enough. Gabriel fell to his knees, taking the ornamental hall table down with him as he went. The delicate glass vase that had sat atop it shattered and across the floor scattered glass and the roses he had brought you only yesterday. He always did try bringing you small gifts before missions as a way to ease the pain and the worry.

He hadn’t even registered what had happened and you were at his side, clutching him and crying out his name. He couldn’t make out what you were saying. The ringing in his ears overshadowed that. But his body responded to your touch and with tremendous effort from you both he was hauled off the floor and pulled onto the couch.

“Honey… I’m home,” he tried to joke, before being taken by a fit of coughing.

 

“Gabe, what happened? Where are you hurt? Do you need a hospital?” you demanded frantically, already ripping off his clothes to find the wound. He winced in pain, back arching as he hissed through it.

“Normally I love coming home and having you tear my clothes off, you-“

“Cut the shit, Gabriel, you’re hurt and you need a hospital.”

His attempts at a reassuring smile completely failed, replaced by a scowl.

“What hospital could treat me? I’m not exactly a typical patient. Moira made sure of that. Besides, according to official records I’m already a dead man,” he growled.

He let his head fall back, his eyes feeling so heavy. He blindly reached out and grabbed your hand, pulling you to sit with him. You were cautious to avoid putting any weight on him, but he eased you against him, one hand cradling your head atop his chest. It rose and fell with ragged breath. Thick, black, foul smelling smoke emanated from a hole in his jacket, which hid the horrors of the flesh beneath.

“I’ll heal, cariño,” he sighed, “I always do. It’s just a cut.”

“You need-“ you began, only to be silenced with a cold metal talon against your lips. It moved to caress your hair. His movements were so tender you could easily forget the lives taken by those very hands.

“Shhh… All I need is you. That’s all I ever need.”


End file.
